


Droplets of Destiny

by blushblurryfond



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Harry is beautiful, I wrote this on a rainy day how fitting, M/M, Rainy Days, Tattoo Artist Louis, Umbrellas, hopefully this is cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-06-02 22:53:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6585901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blushblurryfond/pseuds/blushblurryfond
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short little piece about an alternative universe where Louis needs an umbrella and Harry happens to have an umbrella large enough for a Harry and a Louis to fit under.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Droplets of Destiny

**Author's Note:**

> This is really short but I felt like writing so wrote this last night. This is my first post so sorry if it's not perfect. No trigger warnings that I can think of. Enjoy Xx.

He watched as his Vans came in contact with the puddles, splashing the dirty water all over his feet and black jeans. Thunder made its presence known from above with constant loud clattering. He brought his cigarette to his lips, taking a long drag, trying to relax himself after a long day of work. He ran for the canopy over a nearby store in the bustling downtown of London. He ducked down into the mostly dry ground, relishing in the lack of pouring rain.

After a tedious day of inking too many butterfly designs and music lyrics describing things that would never come for him like love, the rain only reassured him of his shitty life. He always felt that he was unlucky, whether it be gambling with his mates, finding love, or having a talent that enabled him to have a somewhat steady income. Today just implemented this fact further, drilling it into his brain.

He stubbed out his cigarette and decided fuck it, he was just going to run and accept the fact that he would be soaked by the time he got back to his flat. He pulled up the hood of his black hoodie, attempting to cover himself and at least saving a bit of face, whatever he had left.

His shoes squelched, now filled with water, resembling a sponge, as he stepped out into the pounding rain. He ran looking down but only made it a few steps before he ran into a rather large obstacle. He stumbled back substantially, loosing his footing. He was about to fall into a muddy puddle but a strong grip captured his arm, holding him in place before he could tumble to the ground. He stabled himself, unfolding into a standing position when he heard a deep, husky voice.

“Are you alright?” the voice inquired, involuntarily sending chills through his body.

He looked to his arms, where a large hand still captured his arm in a firm, tight grasp. There was a cross between his thumb and index finger. His eyes trailed along his arm, analyzing the tattoos and taking his time looking from the small lock and key to the tail of what appeared to be a mermaid. The rest of the tattoo was covered by rolled sleeves of a satin, nectar-gold coloured jacket.

His eyes trailed to his biceps as he brought his left arm to his hood, pulling it down to allow his eyes a greater peripheral. His eyes then roamed upwards towards the strangers golden brown curls that rested on his shoulders lightly. His eyes moved heavenward and were met with forest green eyes that were wide with surprise. He then noticed his sinfully pink lips and sharp jawline, his features accentuated with his milky yet somehow tan skin that highlighted his piercing eyes and furrowed brow.

The man that stood before him’s expression grew wary and he quickly retracted his arm. The Vans clad man gulped, feeling a shot of arousal shoot through his spine. The man was truly beautiful. He looked ethereal one may dare to say. He was dressed in impeccable clothing, from his tight black jeans to the black scarf that hung loosely around his neck, giving anyone that passes him the impression that he has an eye for matching patterns and fabrics.

The air surrounding them turned thick when he realized he had been staring at him with his mouth slightly open. The curly haired man looked at him with a pained expression, obviously feeling insecure and guilty. Their eyes met in a fiery glow, wonderment filling their blue and green irises.

The taller, green eyed one seemed to snap out of the trance first, speaking in a rushed manner.

“Sorry, I’m sorry, it was my fault-“ he began, clearly feeling terrible for the encounter.

“No, no. It was my fault. I didn't see where I was going. Had me hood down you see, trying to shelter myself from the rain. It’s really quite stormy out. I really am sorry, really it was all my fault. The rain is no excuse. Not that I was trying to use it as an excuse. I don’t think I’m making sense, sorry, erm. Yeah, sorry, yeah, for um, running into you. Yeah. Sorry,” he rushed out, interrupting man, feeling colour fill his cheeks as he realized he had been rambling to a stranger, a beautiful stranger that certainly didn't want to listen. He cringed internally.

To his amazement, the stranger looked at him with obvious focus that was evident in his still furrowed brow and piercing stare. The shorter bloke could tell he was holding onto his every word.

He stared at him with such care, that continued when he answered, “Oh, um, it’s okay, really.”

When he finished speaking, the corners of his mouth upturned, revealing deep dimples, that somehow made his eyes sparkle, adding light to the gloomy atmosphere surrounding them.

The smaller one of the two could feel the water dripping from his dusty brown, hanging fringe onto his golden cheeks, but he couldn't bring himself to care with a beautiful stranger stood before him. He knew right away he wanted to know more about him. He could tell he had an interesting life, with that spark in his eye.

His cheeks heated once again and his palms became sweaty when he realized he had once again, been staring. He cleared his throat, attempting to sound light hearted and natural when he fumbled out, “Okay, good, what’s your name then tall stranger?”

He was surprised when the strangers response was, “Harry and I’m not exactly tall, I think your just short.” He could tell Harry was unsure of his comment by the way his voice quieted down as he finished the sentence and that he meant not harm.

“Excuse me,” he exclaimed, mock offended, “I’m not short Harold! I’m 5’ 10”! Almost!”

He watched as Harry’s smile grew and saw a flush creep up his neck as he addressed him by a nickname which he was pleased about. Harry ran a hand through his hair as he spoke more confidently this time, “I don’t believe that but I’ll let it slide. What’s your name almost 5’ 10”, not short stranger?”

“Well on the weekends it’s 6’ Tommo the Tease with the heels but today Louis will do just fine.” He answered, with the confidence he didn't know he possessed. He looked down unsure, surprised by his own remark but when he looked back up, he saw Harry covering his mouth with one of his huge paws, shaking with silent laughter, eyes wide. He didn't realize he was that funny. It was nice.

“I didn't know strippers could have that many tattoos.” Harry spoke through laughter.

Louis was pleased internally, glad him and Harry had the same sense of humour and he actually understood his attempt at a joke.

“Well I mean when you have hips like these,” he joked, moving his hips around, in what he hoped was an attractive way because it wasn't like he liked Harry already and wanted to wine and dine with him and buy him expensive gifts. No. He was just… hot-ish. Kind of. Not really. He was extremely fit and Louis didn't know why he was kidding himself.

Harry’s eyes trailed downwards before darting up, eyes a bit darker.

“Hey, um, it’s really rainy why don’t we share my umbrella, you're soaked.”

Louis then realized that he definitely couldn't ignore the rain anymore, feeling like his hoodie was heavier with the water it absorbed. He also realized that this whole time Harry was carrying a large black umbrella. He must have been too captured by Harry’s adorableness.

“Yeah, sure. Thank you so much. Guess I’m getting quite drenched,” he babbled, earnestly feeling thankful for the kind people in the world like Harry.

Harry held out his umbrella, making room for Louis under the shelter of it. He ducked under and they began to walk.

“So where are you going Louis?”

“My flat, just finished work. It’s just down the street here.”

“Me too!” Harry exclaimed, obviously excited at the not surprising coincidence, considering the time and place. Louis just nodded, feeling fondness flow through him at Harry’s reaction, a smile taking over his face, subconsciously.

They walked for a while, arms brushing occasionally, both barely containing their smiles.

Louis looked up to see Harry’s curls bouncing from where they drifted atop his shoulders. His eyes focused on the sharp line of his jaw. Harry’s eyelashes fanned over his cheeks that seemed to have permanent dimples.

Louis snapped out of his thoughts and realized he was staring at Harry rather than realizing they were just about to pass his flat. He slowed down as did Harry.

“Well, this is me,” Louis informed Harry while gnawing on his lip. They stood by the steps of the building, facing each other.

Harry’s head snapped up as he exclaimed, “That building?” He pointed to Louis’ residences, his mouth wide open.

“Yeah,” Louis answered, feeling confused why Harry was so excited. He raised his eyebrow, curious as to why Harry had a look of disbelief etched on his face.

“I live here to! Second floor!” he exclaimed through a grin Louis was sure was going to spilt his face in two.

Louis raised his eyebrows to his hairline he was certain and smiled in a way he knew looked ridiculous.

“I’m on the fourth.”

They smiled at each other for too long, like two idiots. Harry tucked a stray piece of hair behind his ear and looked down sheepishly.

“Let’s go on inside then, get out of this rain.”

Louis nodded in agreement and they made their way up the steps and into the elevator. During the short ride, they both were looking down, hiding their smiles.

They exchanged goodbyes as the doors opened for Harry’s floor.

Harry stepped out with a small wave and continued on his way but stopped short, a few steps from the elevator.

“Hey, Louis?”

Louis looked up to see Harry’s beaming smile.

“Mhm?”

He pointed with his thumb behind him, in the direction of the flats, giving Louis a curt nod and a tight lipped smile.

“I’m 211.”

The doors closed leaving Louis with a feeling of happiness bubbling in his stomach, the start of something new.

Maybe today was the start of his luck, rewarding him for all the shit he went through with something as simple as: A Harry.


End file.
